the Downward Spiral
by Jacklyn Hyde
Summary: This takes place in Harry's 5th year, I suppose. He is repeatedly rapped and mutilated by Vernon, unbeknownst to a worried Ron. I know it sounds a bit cliched, but I put alot of effort into creating a story that I've never quite seen before. This is slash


the Downward Spiral  
  
by: Jacklyn Hyde  
  
Rating: 'R' ....for language, rape, angst, self mutilation, slash, suicide attempts, and all that wonderful stuff...  
  
Pairing: Vernon/Harry - Ron/Harry - Fred/George   
  
Summary: Something serious is going on with Harry, but he won't tell Ron...aw, fuck it, I suck at summaries...  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, or characters, or anything like that...they belong solely to J.K. Rowlling, and despite my letters, they are still hers. This is FICTION. Also, the title of the story and the chapters are from the NIN album 'the Downward Spiral' and also from 'Pretty Hate Machine'. ---I can't do anything myself, now can I?  
  
Chapter One: Big Man With a Gun  
  
He stared up at the ceiling, though he could distinguish nothing. His glasses were damaged beyond repair by Uncle Vernon. Come to think of it, Harry felt much the same as his glasses....damaged beyond repair. He had no idea how he was to get back to Hogwarts, the only place he'd ever felt at home, besides the Burrow. Speaking of the Burrow, Ron must be down-right pissed off at him by now. Harry had recieved multiple letters from him, yet returning none. It wasn't his fault; Vernon wouldn't let him. He wouldn't even let Harry read them. He just told him he'd recieved a letter, and then he threw it into the fire. Harry hoped Ron hadn't taken it personally.  
  
Besides, if he were to return to Hogwarts, how would he explain the bruises, the cuts, or anything else that Vernon had caused? Surely Hermione would hate him, Ron would be disgusted, and Dumbledor would know it was Harry's fault. How could it not be? Everything seemed to be his fault these days...  
  
He was just about to nod off to an unfitful sleep, when he heard the door knob turn. He looked over his shoulder best he could, just as the door was flung open. From what Harry's blurry vision could tell, it was the shape of one fat and ugly mother-fucker, namely Uncle Vernon. A sob unwillingly escaped Harry's throat. He couldn't take this anymore. He'd been raped many times before by this man, but each time, it was getting harder and harder to survive, or even to stay concious. And Harry had learned the hard way that he was not to loose conciousness, for that would only prolong his torment. He hadn't been fed in weeks, and Vernon's tremendous weight never did anything to help the situation.  
  
He felt the bed shake somewhat as Vernon neared Harry, slamming the door with a loud bang. Hadn't he just finished with him? Why was he comming back? Harry tried his best to move further from the nearing figure, but Vernon's hand shot out to grasp him around the neck. "Don't you go moving anywhere, or I'll kill you, damn ingrate." his voice boomed in the tiny room. Harry shrank back down into the matress, preparing himself for what was to come. Vernon kept one hand tight around Harry's throat, as the other one felt its way down Harry's abdomen. This was usually the time when Harry went numb, closed his eyes, and wished with all his being for the world to end. His mind went blank, only to be jolted back to bitter reality every time Vernon slammed painfully into him. He would slip off once more, and the process would repeat itself, until the ordeal was blessidly over. Vernon then left Harry in his pitiful puddle of sweat, blood, tears and semen, slamming the door once more. How many more times was this going to happen before Harry finally gave up and off-ed himself for all eternity?  
  
He knew his post-rape routine all too well. He groped mindlessly for what seemed like a century before grasping something he knew would inflict plenty of pain; the remaing glass shards of his glasses, laying on the night stand next to the bed. He somehow managed to find the strength to drag the glass along any and every available body part, particularly a wound that Vernon had already opened. They always seemed to bleed quite a bit better that way. Then he'd while away the hours trying to die and sleep, until Vernon came back for the next round.  
  
Other than cutting himself, shooting himself would have seemed a much better way to end his life. Vernon kept a loaded Beretta in the bottom drawer of the night stand, just incase Harry tried to fight back...he sometimes even used it as a toy. Whatever he used it for, Harry still couldn't get to it. The lock was tight, and as he didn't have his wand, nor the strength, that option was closed. Cutting was his only option for minimum release.   
  
Finally sleep, however unfitful, came to him. Even so, he knew he'd have to be up soon to take a shower and clean up the mess, though how he mustered the strength, not even he knew.  
  
Vernon never did like screwing on a dirty matress...  
  
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Okay people, please review and tell me everything. The good, the bad and the Ugly....I am currently working on the second chapter, so I'll need some advice. Now review, my beautiful minions..... 


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